


The Kindly Ones

by ilovethisfeeling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 13:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10922880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovethisfeeling/pseuds/ilovethisfeeling
Summary: "They are good and we mustn’t anger Them.”The Kindly Ones are myths, legends, They do not exist. Except that They do. And They are angry.





	The Kindly Ones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AQE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AQE/gifts).



At night, the town is quiet. It’s a sleepy place, even on the brightest of days, sunlight streaming through the cobbled streets, lazily lighting up the sandstone cottages, even the birds don’t seem to chirrup as loudly here as they do in London. Besides him, a small ginger cat meows in what Poe thinks is a slightly worried fashion, but asides from bending down to scratch behind BB’s ears a couple of times, he doesn’t engage with the animal. He watches the clock tower that seems to loom over the town, imposing and mighty. As he waits, Poe wonders how the clock tower came to be. It’s brilliant, a gorgeous (though maybe gorgeous didn’t quite fit… too dark, too strong, too _other_ to be gorgeous, Poe thinks) Victorian gothic revivalist building, but it is entirely out of place with the rest of Squall’s End. 

He stands under one of the oaks that break the town up in strange places — you could be walking down the high street and suddenly, find yourself in wooded areas, broad green leaves dappling the light, (the trees seem to come and go as they please, never in the same place from day to day, but either no one realises, or no one finds it strange, and Poe has found that it best not to question the oddities that surround Squall’s End) his eyes tracking the second hand of the clock face, as it draws closer and closer to midnight. 

BB meows again, bumps his head against Poe’s leg, raises a white-stockinged paw to claw at his denim-clad knee. “Hey, hey, you’re alright. We’re alright,” he says, shooting the cat a slightly bemused look. “Just gotta wait a little longer, now.” They have less than three minutes to go now, unless Wexley’s late, which Poe doubts he will be. He’s known the man for far too long to underestimate just how little Wexley enjoys spending any time with their informants. “Besides, what’s gonna happen? Nothing happens in this place.” It’s that very reason that Squall’s End has become their hideout for the past year and a half, hidden amongst the cider apple trees in Somerset.

Though of course, it isn’t necessarily true. Squall’s End is not… it’s not normal. There’s no real magic, not in the way that Diagon and Nocturn have magic, the inhabitants of Squall’s End are definitely muggles, he’s checked, and checked again, and the last person to have been sent to Hogwarts from Squall’s End was at the turn of the century.But there’s something about the place, something that doesn’t make sense. The trees for one thing, the fact that approximately five streams cut through the town’s centre, with little iron bridges connecting the islands together, the fact that sometimes Mrs Kirkby who lives two doors down, looks at them like she understands more than they’ll ever be able to, or that John Pike, a teenager with a bad attitude and a certain disregard for authority went missing for two weeks and when he came back was… changed. Quieter, polite. No one talks about it and Poe needs to keep a low profile so he doesn’t ask any of the locals.

Less than a minute to go and Poe feels the change in the air, something stirring that feels more like home. More than a change of breeze, more than the anticipation that unfurls in his wrists, making him fidget slightly with the hem of his jacket. It feels like magic. 

The second hits midnight and the clock chimes, oddly loud and disconcerting in the stillness of the night but it’s drowned out by the loud cracking noise that splits the sky. Wex saunters over to him, glancing around to make sure he wasn’t spotted, which he wasn’t, which he never is but it never hurts to be careful. Somehow it always feels like they’re being watched when they apparate and disapparate, even from the comfort of their home. 

“You alright?” Poe asks and BB meows in what Poe thinks is a questioning tone. Wex nods, slaps Poe on the back and keeps walking, which is… well it probably isn’t a great sign, but Poe lives in hope that he’s just tired and eager to get back. “Let’s just head home, yeah? I think Pava was on about making those firewhisky cakes you like.”

Their home is small but homely. In the past year and a half that they’ve been living here, Poe and his group of outlaws have made the place their own. Jess has posted film posters over the walls, and found a jumble of brightly coloured, mismatching rugs that over the creaking floorboards, Wex has different projects, potions and bottled curses piling up in the living room and back garden shed, and their increasingly ridiculous selection of modified broomsticks line the corridors. The kitchen usually smells like a strange mix of gunpowder, honey and spice thanks to Poe and Jess’s shared love of cooking and tinkering with different spells and hexes. He thinks that maybe they should make a rule about no magic where there’s food preparation, but for some reason inspiration always hits when he’s cooking. 

He can hear Jess humming to herself, when they shove the door closed behind them, she yells something about cake and Wex heads straight off, leaving Poe to double check the wards. “What did Curvis say then? Did he have news?” Jess is asking, shoving cups of tea and a plate of still-warm cakes across the table as she straddles the back of one of the old wooden chairs they were given by Jackson Higgs, who runs the Milk and Honey Cafe in the town centre. BB leaps onto the table and noses at the food before he curls up next to Poe’s hand. Poe can already feel the vibrations of BB’s purr begin before he’s even started with the petting. 

“Yeah. Yeah, he had news.” Wex says at last, gulping down black tea sweetened with honey. “We have anything to make this stronger?” With a roll of her eyes and a muttered charm, Jess magics over the half full bottle of firewhisky and pours generous plugs of the amber liquid into each of their mugs. “He was twitchy. Never normally is - Jess you’ve met him. Usually calm as anything right?” She nods, and Poe frowns slightly as he drinks his tea. “Well, this time, he was twitchy, wanted to get it over with, almost forgot about payment.” Which… well, that’s definitely worrying. Curvis is a spy, not because of morals or because he truly believes in what the Professor and her army are trying to do, but because it pays well. For Curvis to forget signals to Poe that something’s changed.

“Well, anyways,” Wex continues, “Curvis is saying that they’ve found something. He didn’t know the details, but he’s fairly sure that they don’t actually have it, just that they’ve found something that Snoke is sure will help them.” He sighs, and Poe is reminded suddenly of their final year at Hogwarts, studying for NEWTs in the Ravenclaw Common Room. They’d been so young and yet even then…they’d known something was stirring, something wasn’t quite right. Professor Organa, as she’d been to him then had said it was beginning to feel like it had before. She’d been young then, fighting at the first Battle of Hogwarts, barely into her seventh year. Now when he looks at Wex, he thinks that they’re so young, that they look so much older than they are, that Hogwarts for them was what? A little over ten years ago and yet it feels like a lifetime. 

BB chirrups questioningly and Wex gives the cat a slightly exasperated look to the amusement of Poe and Jess. “He didn’t say much else. Just that Snoke’s apprentice. Y’know the one that looks like a space-age Death Eater? Well, apparently, this is his mission. To prove himself or something, I don’t know.” We shrugs and takes another bite of his cake. “Anything interesting happen your end?” 

“Well, I’m going to Hogwarts tomorrow, to see the Professor. Apparently she has some information, other than that, nothing really. I couldn’t figure out the rest of that code we intercepted. It’s got runes protecting all of the sensitive stuff, and it’s a lot more sophisticated than anything else I’ve seen before.” 

“I can see if I can get Kanata to have a look at them some time this week.” Jess murmurs, she looks pensive, maybe slightly concerned, but then, that’s not so unusual, Poe thinks, Pava throws herself into action with a dedication that can’t be shaken, but she’s cautious when it comes to people. Especially, people who they have next to no information on, and Maz Kanata is as mysterious as they come. “I think she’s somewhere in Beliz at the moment.” She hums for a moment, “Actually, something did happen today. Nothing related to Snoke or anything, but you know the oaks? I think I saw… I don’t know, at first I thought it was a thestral but it was wrong somehow. I don’t know how to describe it.” 

“Is that even possible? I mean, we’ve looked for magic before, there’s nothing here.” Wex says eyebrow raised. 

“I said it wasn’t a thestral. Just that it sort of looked like one, I don’t know I only saw it out of the corner of my eye, and you know how the trees are… Mind of their own. Next thing I knew I was back on the high street.” She shrugs and yawns gulping down the last of her tea. “It was probably nothing, just weird y’know?” With that she swings her legs around and flicks her wand at the empty mugs sending them to the sink. “Anyways, night guys.” 

Poe nods and stands to leave too, waving goodnight to the others and heads off his room, BB slinking around his ankles. His room is in the attic, bits of paper, parchment and experiments of carrying degrees of danger cover any available shelf and desktop space, but there’s a laptop and as many muggle electronics including a police radio scanner as he can get his hands on too. Thankfully, the wizarding world has somewhat moved on since the days when they thought that muggle technology was somehow beneath them, and now there are charms that allow such things to work in harmony with magic. 

Shrugging off his clothes, Poe collapses into his bed and begins to fiddle with the dials on the scanner, tuning into the local police calls. When he was in London, he’d get a fair few reports of unexplained damage and violence that he could immediately signal out as magic, but here, there’s never usually anything, magical or not. It doesn’t hurt to be careful though, and now that Leia seems to think that she’s got something worth checking out, he can’t help but be alert. 

Snoke and his followers have been quiet for a while, keeping a low profile since… Well since, Ben or Kylo or whatever he’s calling himself these days, but Poe knows that it’s only a matter of time until they make a move, and he’s determined to be ready. Determined to put to a stop to their hate. “I suppose, at least it’s not like last time,” He murmurs, mostly to himself but BB blinks at him slowly anyways, silently conveying the fact that though it isn’t like last time, that’s a small comfort. “Yeah… I suppose not caring about muggles doesn’t really mean much when they still want to take over the world.” 

He falls asleep to the crackle of the scanner, BB curled up at the foot of bed.

Rain pounds the grounds of Hogwarts, but Poe is still amazed at the beauty of the place. The stark castle rising up out of the greenery, the way the lake looks like molten lead as the wind creates currents and tides, the forest in the distance, looming and sinister. Hogwarts doesn’t feel like home anymore, Poe isn’t sure that ever truly did, but he’s always struck by the fact that even after years, he remembers which paths will lead him into nowhere and which will never let you get lost, which staircases will trap you in an endless cycle until someone's takes pity on you and which portraits it’s best to not look at directly.

Professor Organa (Head Mistress Organa, now) stands in her office, scowling at a roll of parchment laying open on her desk like it’s personally offended her. “Dameron, take a look at that. See if you can make sense of it.” 

“It’s… a map of London?” He asks, scanning the parchment. “Shoreditch, Camden, Hackney,” He points to the different bits of London that he’s lived in. “I’m not sure what the problem is, Professor.” Except… now that he looks closer, Poe can see that somethings not entirely right. The different boroughs are all there, but they’re slightly the wrong shapes, split up in odd ways. The underground lines don’t follow the correct routes and he can see names of places that he’s never even heard of despite apparently living right besides them at one point in his life. “Maybe it’s out of date?” He asks, glancing up at her. 

“That’s what I thou, ht to begin with, but this map is old. Older than most of the tube stops are, and yet they’re all there. Yesterday, Islington wasn’t even on there, but today it is. Eslerius, was in it’s place, but today Eslerius is over near Camberwell.” And sure enough, Poe spots the small district  that apparently is nestled in between where Camberwell and Peckham meet. “The boundary lines change almost constantly, as if these places come and go of their own accord.”

“Dameron, the reason for your being here is confidential.” She continues, and Poe nods, straightening up and looking her in the eye, already becoming more of the soldier that he has been trained to be than the civilian he pretends to be in Squall’s End. He understands that by confidential she means dangerous, and in all probability illegal. It means that if he’s caught by the Ministry or worse, she and no one else will be able to vouch for him, to help him. He’d be lying if he said that it didn't excite him just a little. “The places on this map don’t exist —I’ve searched for any record of any of them and by all accounts they don’t and never have existed, but that’s not to say that they aren’t real. One of our sources has made it known that Snoke has been sending some of his people to London, and as far as I’m aware, they’ve been following these places, trying to find them, or maybe they have, I don’t know, but it’s important that we find out why he’s interested in these places and what he could be searching for there. Take the map; go to London; try and find out as much as you can.”

“Sure, sure, can do.” He says, and whilst his voice is steady, Poe can already taste coppery adrenaline on the back of his tongue, feel goosebumps prick on his arms as he begins to mentally plan. “I take it I should be prepared to use magic then?” 

Leia looks at him shrewdly, eyebrows raised. “Don’t get caught, Dameron. Your mission starts effective immediately.” The _‘yes’_ is unspoken.

He only stops off at the house to grab some clothes, his broomstick and BB and leaves a vase of fir and geraniums on the kitchen table to let Wex and Pava know that he’s gone undercover before apparating to London.

 

———

 

He is greeted in London by a gust of cold, fresh air and the smell of petrol. Squall’s End has no use for cars, or at least, Poe has never seen anyone drive them, or seen any sign of public transport despite the fact that the roads are sign posted and marked. He forgets that this is strange when he’s there, he forgets to wonder how the residents of Squall’s End ever leave the small village. In London at least, everyone is either trying to find a parking space or stuck in endless lines of traffic. Everyone needs to get somewhere, and no one ever looks too closely which is useful of him right now. BB stays close to him, weaving in an out of pedestrians with an elegance that Poe is jealous of.

He heads first to a base that he knows is safe, and thankfully, empty. It looks like it’s been abandoned for weeks, dust accumulating in the air and on the empty surfaces, but again, that’s good, it means that it will be easier to spot something if it’s been disturbed. Settling at the table in the small kitchenette, Poe unrolls the map and begins to search. He’s in Croydon right now, and the surrounding areas look untampered with, nothing seems out of place as he double checks the boundary lines with google maps and an London A to Z paper map. Eslerius has moved too, disappeared entirely actually, though there’s space where it had been, a gap of nothingness in between Camberwell and Peckham. 

The first week is incredibly uneventful. He follows the odd spaces on the map, follows the wandering, hidden parts of London but is only met with seeming mundanity, returning each night more and more frustrated. 

And then…

Then, everything happens at once.

It starts on a Wednesday morning, the skies heavy with impending rain and the streets full of harried workers, trying to get to their respective jobs on time. Poe assumes that today will be just as fruitless as the others as he ducks and doges between the commuters, keeping one eye on the map which is cancelled to look like a regular tourist guidebook and one eye on anyone who looks like they might be trou- “You have _got_ to be joking.” He hisses as Ben Solo, or Kylo or whatever he wanted to be called nowadays steps off a bus, dressed in black, his dark hair twisted into a loose bun as the nape of his neck. Poe almost stops still, doesn’t want to take his eyes off the man, but he forces himself to keep his head down, praying that Kylo hasn’t spotted him. He supposes this is a good thing, that he must be onto something if Snoke has sent his prodigy here. 

Curvis, it seems, has come through once again.

Kylo glances around and Poe holds his breath as he hides himself behind the pile of people leaving the bus, until finally, Kylo turns and joins the steady slew of people. What Poe wants to do is have a sit down and a coffee and maybe a small crisis, because this… this was the absolute last thing he wanted to happen. Ben had been… Ben had been a friend, a constant in Poe’s life since childhood, Poe remembers him being so cautious, so gentle, so calm until one day… one day that cautiousness turned to defensiveness, gentleness turned to aloofness and the calm that Ben radiated turned turbulent. He’d distanced himself and eventually, Poe had stopped trying to reach out, too busy in his life and school career to keep trying. 

And then that night at the school. It had happened two years after he’d graduated, when Ben would have been in his final year. Those kids… the never-ending fire that had threatened to consume the whole of Hogwarts. Poe shudders thinking about it still, and whilst at least at least no one had died, several had dropped out or been pulled out by rightfully scared parents, and Professor Skywalker, the Herbology professor had disappeared completely. Professor Organa doesn’t talk about it, but Poe knows that she doesn’t know what happened to him, where he’d vanished too.

So yeah, Poe doesn’t want to follow Kylo, doesn’t want to see him ever again, but knows without a shadow of a doubt that that is exactly what he’s going to do. Grumbling slightly to himself, he keeps his head low and sets off after Kylo, making sure to always keep a few people between them. BB follows, though more cautiously, and honestly Poe doesn’t blame the cat. He’s reluctant too.

He keeps glancing at the guidebook, making mental notes of the shifting boundary lines and the new names that crop up every so often. They’re in Westminster right now, heading towards Pimlico, though according to the map, Pimlico is now called Taanyth, so he assumes that that’s Kylo’s final destination. Poe notes that Kylo isn’t using a map though, he keeps his pace even, long strides carrying him through the crowds of Londoners who all seem to way for him instinctively. Poe wonders if Kylo already knows what he’s searching for, if Snoke has already figured out what he’s looking for or Kylo is relying purely on intuition and that spark of Old magic that runs through his family.

He suspects it’s the latter, because Ben always had strange understanding of things he couldn’t see, when he was a child, Poe remembers him placing salt candles in Poe’s bedroom and chocolate fudge outside his door. He doesn’t remember why, but he remembers how solemn Ben had looked, and he’d kept up the ritual. He doesn’t think about the fact that he still does this, every night without fail, doesn’t think about the uneasy sensation of eyes on his back if he doesn’t.

The streets are thinning of people now, as they head further and further away from the main drag. There are less people for Poe to hide behind and BB is a giveaway, so with an apologetic glance, Poe nudges the cat with his boot and jerks his head to side. After a second of silent arguing with the feline, BB turns and slinks away. It’s just him and Kylo now, though Kylo doesn’t seem to have noticed him. Or if he has (which is likely) he’s pretending not to have. This in itself is worrying, but Poe knows that if he stops now, he might be giving up the only chance they have of stopping Snoke from advancing in his plans. And now… Now it’s just him and Kylo.

The alleyway they’ve come to is barren, barely wide enough to fit through and at this point, there;s no way that Kylo doesn’t know he’s there, probably knows who he is, so Poe gives up any sort of pretence. His hands closes around his wand, the feeling of cool, glossed wood giving himsome small piece of assurance and comfort that at least he’s not entirely alone. 

Neither of them move for what feels like minutes, though in reality it can’t have been more than a few seconds. Poe’s breath is even, but his heart is pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he can practically feel his blood rushing, fear and anxiety and something like _excitement_ overwhelm his system and it’s all he can do to stop himself from saying something, _anything_ to break this moment. Time seems to be moving slower now, it’s almost as if they’re suspended outside reality, like what happens now won’t affect them when they ( _if_ they) make it back to the busy streets. 

“You need to leave.” Kyle’s voice is lower than he remembers it being. It reminds Poe of a funeral march: minor key meets emphatic mourning. 

“Do I?” He responds, and though he’s aiming for something lighthearted, Poe can hear the edge to his words, the strain, the sadness and anger that can’t be masked. “You know, I really don’t think I do. Think I might just stick around see what’s so special that it’s brought you out of hiding.” Kylo’s shoulders tense under the black jumper he’s wearing, his fingers clench then slowly relax, which Poe remembers was something that Ben always did when he was trying to keep his temper. 

“I’m just curious, but how did you end with Snoke? Was it before or after the fire? Was that to impress him or just for kicks?” He continues, when Kylo still doesn’t say anything, voice getting uglier as the memories come back. Leia would tell him that he was being reckless now, but Poe honestly can’t bring himself to care. Years of questions, of sadness and rage and mourning swell in his chest as he stands there. Fury feels something like catharsis. “You destroyed the greenhouses, the ground they were on can’t be used, nothing grows there anymore. Did that make you happy? Proud?” And then when that doesn’t seem to work, “I suppose I’ll tell your mother I saw you, got any messages you want me to pass on?”

Kylo growls low in his throat, spins and paces forward in one elegant motion until he’s looming over Poe, and he can see the rage that lines Kylo’s face. “You have no idea what you’re doing here, you have no idea how much danger you’re putting both of us in, so don’t try to make me angry. Don’t think I won’t happily kill you, Dameron.” Poe doesn’t even see Kylo’s arm moving until he feels the other’s fingers around his throat, pressing on his neck with strength that doesn’t entirely feel human. Kylo tosses him with ease like a rag doll against the brick wall, and Poe feels his ankle crumple underneath him. 

He wants to respond, to shout, to fight, but at that moment, the air in the alley changes. He can’t explain it, isn’t sure if he has the words to describe how the atmosphere shifts, as if someone has thrown a blanket over the sky, stifling the tension. Kyle’s face contorts into a snarl, but there’s something in his eyes that Poe realises is fear. Before he can react, Kylo is crouched down besides him and grabs his wand from where he’d dropped it, throwing it out the alley and Poe can only watch as it tumbles down the edge the road and then is lost from sight. “They won’t take kindly to it. They are _good_ and we mustn’t anger Them.” Kylo murmurs before Poe can even open his mouth, his voice takes on a faraway quality, as if he’s reciting a prayer, his eyes look lost, and honestly that is more frightening than anything Poe has seen from Kylo so far.

The next change Poe notices is the smell. Exhaust fumes, concrete and tarmac permeate the city, rubber and petrol are always the first things he smells whenever he comes to London, it seems to settle on his clothes, on his skin, in his hair, and Poe doesn’t particularly mind it, had grown used to it when he’d lived here, but now… The air smells likes grass, woodlands and craggy valleys. Sweet and inviting. 

It’s enough to immediately make him wary.

He feels Her presence before he sees her, feels the rush of something _Other_ bearing down on him masking reality and everything that he understands to be true. The air seems to shift, twisting and merging until at the end of the alley, a woman stands. She is breathtaking and terrifying in her strangeness, eyes pure white, skin the colour of midnight, she stands with ivy twisting through her her hair that looks like it’s woven smoke. The woman (though Poe knows instantly, deep in his gutsthat she isn’t human, isn’t anything that he can recognise) cocks her head, and when he speaks, ice shatters in his chest, “ _What will you give? And what will you take?_ ” 

Kylo stands, unsteady and uncertain, like a lamb taking it’s first steps, he bows his head and Poe watches will filtered fear and wonder as he offers his palms to the woman. “My lady, I give myself to you, if you will grant my Master your knowledge.” The words tumble from his lips like a song, a recital, a hymn. Poe wants to stop him, to shake him, to remind him of the lessons that have been ingrained in him since childhood: _never_ , under any circumstances, give yourself entirely to something you don’t understand. 

And neither of them can possibly understand this woman.

It’s too late though, the woman glides towards Kylo, arms outstretched, takes him in her arms and holds him as a lover would. Except… Something isn’t right. Poe doesn’t know what the woman sees, what she senses, but he understands immediately that she doesn’t like it. “ _You’ve already been taken. There is nothing left of you to have._ ” She whispers, voice carrying in the non-existent wind. Her hands, which Poe now sees are more like claws, dig into Kylo’s skin, ripping fabric and flesh, leaving dark gouges that go to the bone. “ _You dare trick me?… Or you do not know… Taken before you were born, bartered for something else.”_ She digs in deep, clawing flesh from Kylo’s neck and shoulders as she tries to delves deeper into his soul.

Poe feels sick. Bile rises in his throat at her words, the realisation hits that Ben, his sweet, careful Ben had been corrupted and exchanged like a cow for sale before he had even seen the light of day. Kylo screams, and Poe cannot take it anymore, he pushes himself forward, groaning at the shooting pain that spikes up his ankle and reaches to touch the man. “He didn’t know. He _couldn’t_ have known.” He gasps, staring up at the woman, or goddess, or whatever she is. “ _Please, help him._ ” The words are out of his mouth before he even understands what he’s asking. He thinks it’s for Leia who’s heart breaks whenever she walks through the patch of land where the greenhouses stood, he thinks it’s for Luke who hasn’t been seen in years, he thinks it’s for the resistance, he thinks it might be a little bit for him. Mostly he thinks it’s for Ben, who never stood a chance.

The woman stares down at him, and Poe feels like he’s been torn open, cut in two. She drops Kylo like a broken toy, and reaches for him, claws grasping his already tender neck as she inspects him. Silence falls and Poe has no clue what to do next, so he does what he always does: pushes further. “His master did this, sent him here, he sent him to you. Snoke is the one who tried to trick you.” At his words, something in her changes, he can’t her expression, he knows without question that the mention of Snoke did something.

The strength of her grip slackens slightly, and she lowers him to the ground. _“Snoke is a danger to the Kindly Ones.”_ She murmurs, her gaze falling on Kylo and Poe sense her repulsion, her fear. _“We leave this world alone, save for when We are summoned, but We know of this man. He shall die by Our might.”_ Her words broke no argument, but Poe can sense that there’s something else. Why, if They are so powerful, haven’t they killed him already, he wonders, though he doesn’t ask. If Kylo was right about anything, angering Them doesn’t seem like a smart thing to do. _“Lead Snoke to the place where the Old magic runs deep, and I shall give your soldier his self back. That is the deal.”_

It doesn’t seem like Poe has any other choice but to accept. 

 

———

 

Kylo wakes up screaming. 

 

Poe had had to knock him out before he’d apparated to the safe house, and honestly he almost wishes that he’d left the other man in the alley. Even without a wand and restrained with magic, Kylo is still dangerous, though Poe has to admit that there’s something quite nice about the set up he has going on. BB seems to think so too, judging from the way he’s lounging on a shelf above Kylo, his tail flicking past Kylo’s head every so often. He’s using Kylo’s wand for now, until he can get a replacement for the one that Kylo threw away. “You know, it’s funny that you’d get rid of mine, and yet I found yours in your coat pocket. Thought They didn’t like wands?” He asks, amusement and resentment mingling in his voice. “Bit of a hypocrite, aren’t you?” The sooner he can get a replacement though the better. Poe recognises this wand as the same one that had picked Ben when he was eleven, but the energy has changed. The magic feels turbulent, like it’s fighting against itself and it’s owner. He might have assumed that it was because it was rebelling against someone other than Kylo using it, but it’s stronger than that - almost as if the unicorn hair that binds the wand doesn’t want to channel the magic that Kylo now uses.

The other man growls low in his throat, flexes against the restraints but otherwise doesn’t talk. Poe doesn’t think he remembers anything that happened in the alley past the scars, he thinks that maybe if he had, Kylo’s reactions would’ve been even more violent. “Ever the conversationalist, I see. It used to be endearing, but honestly, this is just boring.” That doesn’t get a response either, though Poe doesn’t expect it to, so instead, he turns his attention to the fireplace, chucks a fistful of floor powder onto the dying embers, casts a muffling charm and thrusts his head into the dying embers.

Thankfully, Wexley is in the kitchen, and notices straight away when Poe appears in the fireplace, he grabs a mug of coffee and crouches down besides the fire, eyebrows raised. “What the hell have you been up to? Looks like you’ve been hit around the head by a giant, mate.” He says by way of a greeting and Poe snorts. 

“Long story. Listen, I think I’ve figured out a way to stop Snoke. For good.” He relays the events of the day hurriedly, very aware of the fact that he’s got a wanted criminal locked up behind him with no real precautions save for a very feisty cat. “Thing is, I have no idea where ‘ _the place where the Old magic runs deep_ ’ is. She wasn’t very clear about the details.” Wex’s expression takes on a thoughtful quality, eyebrows furrowed together, lips pursed. 

“You said she referred to herself as a Kindly One?” He asks, and Poe nods. “Old magic… Poe, this sounds like Fae.” Except… the Fae are legends, mythical creature from before the time of Merlin. If they ever existed they were driven out by iron and wands. When Poe says this, Wex shrugs a shoulder, “Kylo said that your wand would anger Them. You know Pava has those stories that her grandmother told her. You remember that time in Care of Magical Creatures, when they brought out those fairies?” He does. He remembers how Jess had snorted and spent the lessons telling them about how they were descendants of Fae, but nothing like the real thing. He remembers her telling them about leaving milk and sugar as gifts and offerings, about iron and salt as a precaution. 

He remembers the salt candles and the chocolate fudge and his heart breaks.

“That still doesn’t mean we know where we need to go.”

“Except maybe it does. Didn’t Pava say that They couldn’t cross water? Iron and salt keep you safe. Where do you know that that has five streams in one village? Where everything is made from iron? Yesterday I was walking back from the shops and the trees moved again.” 

It makes sense. It makes a horrifying amount of sense. Squall’s End: the village of the Kindly Ones, the place where kids go missing and return different, where no one talks about it but everyone understands. “How’d we get him there? Snoke isn’t going to just waltz into Squall’s End. Everything that we know about him suggests that he avoids any direct conflict himself.” He says, mind already whirring with potential ideas and plans, all of which are worse than the last. “I’m going to take him with me,” He says, referring to Kylo who he still hear yelling expletives and curses behind him.

“You sure that’s safe? He’s dangerous, Poe.” Wex asks dubiously, and Poe can’t blame him really, but it’s the only choice they have. And he can’t deny the fact that Kylo or Ben, or whoever he is underneath the Fae magic needs his help. A small part of him hopes that without Snoke’s influence, without him controlling Kylo, Ben will return, will find his real self. He hopes that who Ben is isn’t so far off the boy he remembers. A smaller part of him can admit now that he misses Ben, misses the way that sunlight had danced in his eyes, the way that he had tried so hard to make his parents proud, make Poe proud. He remembers autumn evenings when they would sit in the orchard that backed Poe’s garden, whispering secrets and promises, how everything had seemed so soft and calm with him. Calm in a way that he hasn’t felt since.

“Snoke made a deal with the Fae, Wex, he made a deal for Ben before he was even born. He never stood a chance against that kind of magic.” His voice is wistful, he knows, memories and hopes and wants mixing with pure emotion. “I’ve got to try.”

 

Wex sighs but nods, and gratefulness wells up in Poe’s chest at the trust that he has has in him. “I’ll talk to Pava now, see if she can think of something. Kanata was in Senegal apparently.” They say their goodbyes, and Poe wipes soot from his face as he turns to face Kylo again. The younger man glares at him as he walks over and sits down on the chair next to where Kylo’s being held, straining against the restraints. 

“You’ll regret this. Snake’s kill you, and you still think you have a chance,” He says, voice worn from yelling. Bound like this, Poe thinks that Kylo looks more like a scared animal, pushed into violence than he does the ruthless monster that he’s known to be. There’s something wild about him that bleed from him, but Poe can still see the person he used to be, can still see Ben in every part of Kylo. It’s this that stops him from getting angry. Instead he just feels sad. Sad for what has happened to Kylo, sad for the way the world has treated him and sad for the way that he has treated the world.

“You gave me salt candles. Do you remember that?” He asks, “Do you remember why?” Because honestly, Poe doesn’t know if Kylo does. If he remembers anything before Snoke. 

Something pained crosses Kylo’s face then, and he twists his head away, staring at the blank wall. “You don’t understand the Gentry. They don’t play by your rules.” He mutters, and Poe wonders if Kylo understands what has happened to him. If he understands and has resigned himself to this fate. “I made my choice.”

“Snoke made your choicer you. Before you were even born, do you not understand that? He’s been in your head, controlling you since you were a child… Kylo… Ben.You were manipulated, you were a _child_ and you were manipulated.” On some level, Poe knows that the things Kylo has done since then need to be answered for, but he can’t believe that Kylo can be held fully responsible when he had no other alternative.

“I made my choice.” Kylo repeats, though he doesn’t sound so sure now. “I could have stopped it. I could have done more, but I didn’t. I made my choice.”

“He made your choice for you.” Poe says, sounding far more confident than he feels. “It doesn’t matter now anyways. We’re going home.”

 

———

 

Anyone passing through Squall’s End probably wouldn’t notice the difference in the village, but Poe feels it immediately. There’s a tension running through the village that is practically palpable, it feels like ice and fire, he can hear flutes and violins play on the winds, and it could be someone’s radio playing, but Poe thinks it feels more like an anthem, a battle cry. Wex and Jess are waiting for them when he apparates into the living room, Kylo in hand. Jess shoots Poe a worried look, as she checks over the restraints, but Kylo doesn’t do anything save for rolling his eyes. “Snoke should be here at sun down.” She murmurs, “Kanata came through with the code.”

“Are you sure it will work? Won’t he just send someone to get him?” Poe asks, thinking about thehidden army that Snoke has lying in wait for such moments. 

“The thestral I was talking about? Well, definitely not a thestral, but I appeared when I was trying to get back home today to send the message. It had an owl with it, except it definitely wasn’t an owl.” Her expression shifts then, and Poe is reminded of Mrs Kirkby and her all-too-knowing gaze. “I’ve never seen an owl with seven eyes before.” 

Wex clears his throat, “I’ll go over the plans in the kitchen. Take him with us, but use these.” He produces a pair of earmuffs and a blindfold. “The less he knows the better.” And then, turning to Kylo, he addresses him directly, “On the off chance that Poe’s right and you’re in as deep as we are, it’s safer for you too.” 

Bound, deaf and blind, Kylo is lead towards the kitchen by the three of them, where they all sit at the table, surveying the numerous sheaves of parchment that Jess and Wex have rolled out. “We don’t know where Snoke will actually show up, but we need to get him to a clearing, away from any civilians. And then…I don’t know, I guess it’s over to the Fae.” It’s not a comprehensive plan. In fact, it’s about as unprepared as Poe has ever been, but it seems that it’s all they have to go on. “We’ve got backup on the way, and Pava and I will try and keep the civilians safe and we’ve got backup on the way.” Wex says, glancing towards Kylo apprehensively, though there’s no way that he can hear them. “Leia’s coming.”

Poe doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not, doesn’t know how either Kylo or Leia will react seeing each other again, doesn’t know what will happen after. In the space of a day, everything’s changed, and Poe knows that whatever happens, for better or worse, nothing will be the same again. 

Poe takes Kylo and BB to the outskirts of town, a place where kids are forbidden to go for reasons that now make a whole lot more sense. Before he’d thought the stories of children disappearing and never being seen again were nothing more than stories, but now he takes in the circle of toadstools and the old rowan trees that look centuries old and he believes them. They sit in the circle and wait for sundown. With little else to do, Poe finds his attention resting more and more on the man next to him.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Kylo who speaks first, quiet and sullen, “You have salt candles in the living room.” 

“Yeah, I got into the habit of it after you made me promise. Seems like it was a pretty good habit to get into now I think about it.” Poe replies, snorting. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Fae when we were young?” He wonders if it would have made a difference.

“They’re myth and legend. No one would have believed me.” Kylo says, and Poe can hear the loneliness in his voice, thinks about all those years when Kylo thought he was the only one to hear the siren call of the Fae, the only one to feel ripped in half by the Old magic. “He told me I was special… That I could never be like anyone else because I was Fae, I was destined to be alone, to be half a person without his guidance. I tried to get him out, tried all the magic I new… but nothing helped, nothing worked and then… I stopped trying.” He talks as if in a reverie, like he’s in a trance, and Poe supposes that this is the first time he’s been able to explain anything. “I made the choice to stop trying.”

“Kylo… Snoke made a deal for you. That kind of magic… It’s too strong to deny, the fact that you did for so long… The fact that you tried to save people even when you were losing yourself… Don’t you think you deserve a chance to find out who you’d be without him?” Poe’s palms shake as he reaches out and touches Kylo’s wrist, entwining their fingers together and squeezing. His heart swells when Kylo squeezes back. 

The sun dips lower in the sky, disappearing behind the rowan trees, and Poe guesses that they have only minutes until sunset. Behind him, he can hear the rustle of gowns, the soft tread of footfall, the laughter that is too beautiful and too cruel to be truly human. The Gentry surround them, all of them strange and terrifying in their beauty. A man with hair the colour of tears steps inside the circle and smile. His teeth are razor sharp and his eyes are blank. _“Stand by the Rowans, do not let yourself be seen, we will offer no protection otherwise.”_ He’s talking to him, Poe realises, and he’s about to protest, tell them that he’s not going to leave Kylo when he’s under his protection for anything, but Kylo squeezes his hand again and lowers his head. Poe remembers the warning that Kylo had given him earlier: The Gentry didn’t play by any rules that he understood.

Reluctantly, he steps out of the circle and walks to the trees, ducking down behind one of the shrubs out of sight. When he looks back, the circle is empty and night has fallen. Minutes pass, each slower than the last, and Poe itches to get out of the trees, to see what is happening, but he stays still, can’t risk ruining this chance, and so he waits. Waits until he sees a lone figure emerging from the opposite end of the clearing, and knows instantly that it’s Snoke. It’s too dark to make out any distinctive details, but temperature drops a couple of degrees, and Poe begins to wonder if Snoke himself doesn’t have few drops of Fae in him.

“My apprentice, you have done well,” Snoke’s voice travels in the still night, and if Poe didn’t now better, he would have though that he was talking to an empty clearing. He wants to know why the Gentry are shielding his sight, but at this point it would probably be a bad idea to ask, and he doesn’t especially want to get on Their bad sides either. “You’ve proven yourself to me this past month,” Snoke carries on walking, and Poe begs him to keep going just a few more steps, just a few more steps and he’d be in the circle, just a few more steps and the Gentry would have their victim. “With your help, my plans are ready. The world will be remade in my vision.” Poe knows the second that Snoke crosses the threshold. The sounds of horses stampeding thunders across the sky, the shrieks of the Gentry pierce his ears, Snoke’s own roaring rage barely reaches the edges of the clearing but even as Snoke tries to escape, to retreat, Poe sees hands push out of the dirt and claw at the man’s ankles, dragging him full into the circle. 

The Gentry materialise then, hundreds of them, jeering and hollering, dancing and singing, they move in intricate circles, weaving in out of each other in a never-ending spiral. Smoke is raised high by men on horseback, flung into the air and caught in the crowds. The woman from the alley, spins him in a dance that Poe realises will only end when the Gentry decide. The music grows more and more frenzied, more and more violent, and in the chaos Snoke is jerked from Fae to Fae, pulled and torn in a glorious swirl of ultra-violence. 

They’ll either rip him to shreds or he’ll dance until he dies, Poe realises with a growing sense of horror, but he can do nothing but stay hidden behind the rowan trees, and ignore the growing desire to join them. 

As morning breaks the sky, the Gentry depart, fading into the early daylight mist. Poe thinks that Snoke died at some point past one in the morning, collapsing from exhaustion, unable to do anything to stop the Gentry from dancing over his body all night long. He’s thankful that they took his body with them though, leaving nothing in their wake save a patch of forget-me-nots, and a figure slumped in the middle of the circle.

Poe rushes forwards, tiredness suddenly forgotten in his haste to get to Kylo. The younger man looks awful Poe notes, dark circles creating half moons under his eyes, his hair is matted with moss and his skin mottled with scratches and scars. It looks as though They literally tore him pieces in order to put him back together again, which, honestly, probably isn’t all that unlikely he thinks wryly. Kylo stirs, and groans as he pushes himself up, reaching out to Poe to steady himself. “I think I died last night.” He mumbles, and Poe might write that off as Kylo (is it Ben now?) being melodramatic, butfor all he knew, he could have. “I feel… I feel empty.” At this, the younger man’s expression turns wondrous. “ _He’s gone_.” 

 

———

 

No one in the village acknowledges anything strange about Poe and Kylo’s dishevelled appearance. In fact, no one acknowledges them at all, for which Poe is quietly grateful. Home, however, is a different story. As soon as they step foot through the door, Pava is on him, brandishing cups of tea at them, “Did it work? Is he dead?” She asks, nervous anticipation coating her words. He nods, shooting her a tired grin as he accepts one of the mugs. “I’m guessing that he’s…?” She trails off uncertainly, obviously unsure how to proceed. 

“We think so,” Kylo says, his deep voice soft and slow, and Poe wonders if he’s trying to put the woman at ease or if he’s just unused to talking without being someone else mouthpiece. Jess nods hurriedly, and pushes the second mug into Kylo’s free hand. 

“Wex and I had a bet going to if it would,” She says, smiling slightly to try and put Kylo slightly more at ease. “He wasn’t so sure, but I figured you two’d be alright in the long run. Leia believed in you both, and I trust her.” She pauses and then glances at the two of them, taking in their linked hands, with a quirked eyebrow. “She’s in the kitchen, when you’re ready.” With that, she disappears down the hallway, leaving the two of them alone. 

Kylo turns to poe then, eyes panicked, “I can’t… I can’t see her, everything I’ve done…” His fear is practically tangible, and Poe doesn’t really know what to do to try and make it better. 

“Listen, everything you’ve done… You’ll have to make things right, that’s undeniable. But it’s possible, Kylo. And Leia… She never stopped believing in you. She never stopped loving you.” He bites his lip, and looks Kylo in the eye, “I’ll be there with you. I promise.” It’s not much, but Poe knows that it’s true, knows that now that he’s got Kylo here, safe and most importantly, himself again, he won’t ever give up on him so easily. “We’re doing this together, if you want that.”

“I’d like that.” Kylo says at last, and Poe thinks that Kylo’s look at him with something like hope gleaming in his eyes.

He thinks that he’s probably looking the same way. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, I hope you like this! Harry Potter is probably my favourite series in the world, so I hope I've done this justice - either way, I absolutely loved the prompt and I hope you enjoy your gift, AQE!


End file.
